Swallow My Pride
by TerraceBerceau
Summary: A case filled with Dean's worst nightmares brings several secrets to light: including one about a certain Angel. Eventual Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

Homo.

My trigger word. The thing that riled me up, and sent me reeling. It was a scar on my fifteen year old self that I couldn't grow out of. It would always be there, following me.

Homo.

It was 1992. The Fresh Prince hadn't made his appearance yet. Sammy was just a little kid. Dad was flakey but still present. I just had Bobby to talk to.

Bobby was calmer back then, and didn't drink so hard. He just looked tired. No one would mistake him for a soldier of fortune. No one would think he sat in a chair and solved the world's darkest problems. He was just Bobby, The Deadest Shot and a Fine Drunk.

I loved Bobby more than anyone. With Sammy so young, there wasn't much of a bond. It wouldn't happen until Dad's death, really, that I could trust him completely. I cared about him deeply, and I would have killed anyone or anything for him... But that was it.

Bobby alone knew every gory detail of my struggles. Bobby alone held my secrets and took them to the grave.

Bobby was the only one who knew about James.

At fifteen, I just wanted to lose my virginity. It was the '90's, man. Everyone was trying to do everyone else. I didn't care about STD's or knocking up some girl. I just wanted to feel something besides my hand. It seemed like the thing to do. Have sex, drink beer, and you'd win at life. I wanted to be popular. I craved it. We had been at the school for almost two months. With dad gone, I didn't have anyone setting rules or keeping me in line. I should have thought about Sammy. I should have cared more. Eventually I did; when it was too late.

It was Amanda Becker's party. She was so hot, with her tiny waist and miniskirts. The miniskirts. I used to dream about sliding my hand up her tan, smooth legs, and pounding her in the locker room. Trust me, it was very hot in my head.

The party was intense. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE was there. Nerds, cool kids, hippies and Emos. Everyone congregated together. It was like the earth had stopped and we could all sing koombaya. I didn't think about Monsters, or demons, or any creepy-crawlies that night. It was just me and my libido. The smell of sex radiated up and down Amanda's stairwell. In fact, it had begun to look like a very uncoordinated orgy in her living room. I kind of wanted to join in.

Right as I was about to yell "fuck it" and take a body shot off of the nearest slut, I saw him.

James.

Everyone knew James. Smart kid. Attractive, too. He played football, he did water polo, and he looked absolutely disgusted by everything around him. It was weird because he was popular, and popular people usually didn't give a crap about anything and anyone. He wasn't even drinking. No red solo cup for him: just a water bottle. For a second I thought maybe he had vodka in it, but he was too coordinated.

I found myself walking towards him, drawn into the whole "above-it" attitude. He oozed cool, and I wanted it. Something in the dark eyes and attractive stubble made him seem all the more enticing. I needed to become his friend and learn his secrets.

Remembering I knew how to kill anything a hundred different ways, I managed to approach him. "Hey."

He looked a little startled. "Hey. You're... Dean, right?"

I nodded profusely. Half the struggle was already gone! He knew my name! I reached out to give him a handshake like '90's kids did. He took it, a little unsure, but smiled anyways. In my most flattering voice, I said, "I'm amazed you actually remembered my name."

"It wasn't your name, per say. It was your eyes."

My... What?

He blinked at me, and I blinked back. What could I say to that? There was no getting up from that.

"They're... Uh... They're green."

I tried to ignore the flush of his cheeks. He was just embarrassed. Just embarrassed. "They... Um... Are."

"I mean, it's like a really _weird_ green. Most people probably recognize you from it."

Under my breath I whispered, "I doubt it."

"But, uh, what do I know."

He fidgeted so hard with his water bottle that I half expected it to explode. What the hell was up with him?

I should have walked away. It would have made total sense to walk away. Nothing would have changed, if I had just walked away.

Nothing.

Instead, his eyes slid towards mine, and in that instant I realized what was happening.

James was _hitting_ on me.

I expected to feel a little disgusted, but I didn't. Nothing James did would make me feel disgusted because he was so god-damn successful and good-looking. He reached up to my face and placed his hand on my cheek. I didn't step away. I didn't even blink.

"Have you ever kissed a guy?"

I shook my head as innocently as possible. "No."

He stepped closer, and pressed himself into me. "Would you like to?"

It was weird. James was oddly... Attractive. Like, to me. And I kind of wanted a taste of whatever he was selling. His eyes had become so dark and hungry. They were focused on me. They wanted me, the way no one had ever seemed to want me in my life.

And it sounded pretty good.

I nodded yes, very very subtly, and let him guide me up the stairs.

Couples were hooking up everywhere. Amanda had already taken her whole top layer off and was giving lap dances in the game room. We just needed to find somewhere that locked.

At last, we came upon an unoccupied closet and we stuffed ourselves inside. There was no time to think about air or if my breath smelled okay because he was already kissing me. It was hard and soft at the same time. He wasn't sloppy. Quite the opposite. His mouth had superpowers. I was elated. Amazed. It was happening! The forbidden nature made it even better.

We kept kissing for hours. Days. Weeks. It just went on and on. It wasn't until quite a bit later that I realized both of us had boners. He noticed at the same time, and reached for mine without any warning. His hand was warm through my jeans and it felt _good_. In fact, I felt better than I had in days. He rubbed and rubbed absentmindedly until I came in my pants.

"Shit." I murmured. I hadn't expected it to hold out for long, since the only person who has ever jacked me off had been me. He smiled like a princess and motioned his own groin. But I didn't wasn't to bother with a hand job, all of a sudden. I wanted something more.

To taste him.

Dean Winchester, the little kid who fought demons and monsters wanted to suck off a popular guy in a closet.

I unbuckled his belt and took his erection into my hand. It was bigger than mine by a lot. I looked around frantically for a moment, trying to find anything that would work as lube. Some body lotion on the third shelf caught my eye. I'd keep that in mind.

I stroked the shaft a couple of times before opening my mouth. It was so warm. Even with the length hitting the back of my throat, it didn't feel awkward or weird. It felt nice, and comfortable. He had helped me, so I should help him.

"Shit shit shit, Dean. Shit." He whispered delightedly. "Oh god. Keep going. Ah... Ah."

The blow job probably lasted two minutes before he blew his seed into my open mouth, whispering, "FUCK, DEAN, fuckkkkk." And I swallowed because that's the sort of guy I am.

He gasped for a few solid minutes, the color in his cheeks bright. I liked it. I had made him feel so good that he couldn't breathe. It was all me.

He brushed my hair out of my face before kissing me chastely. "That was the best."

Of course it was the best. It had been the first.

A few weeks after that, dad picked us up to take us somewhere uptown. I hadn't said more than five words to James after that, because he was still in the closet (metaphorically...) but we always locked eyes in the hallway, sharing a secret. Our secret. But I was moving away, and the secret could just die. No one would ever have to know. Women were still attractive to me, so I wasn't gay. I could just... Be.

It took me three years to finally hear the news about James.

After I left, he was caught kissing another boy in the woods. He was stripped of his letter, he was kicked off of both teams, and his grades slipped.

A few weeks after that, the bullying started.

I learned this from Amanda herself, who had tried to stick up for James while everything happened. They had started to call him homo.

Homo.

Homo.

Homo.

Every day, from everyone in town, he was labeled as the gay boy. The homosexual. He couldn't leave his house without someone flinging shit at him. There was nowhere James could just be.

Eventually, the taunting became full on death threats. He was accused of sodomy and interfering with God's Great Order. His own dad was fired. James turned to drinking.

On August 23rd, 1993, James commuted suicide. He picked up a bottle of painkillers and took them all with a glass of orange juice. He died.

He died because people couldn't understand.

He died because he kissed a boy and liked it.

I lived with that secret for years. It haunted me. I had nightmares where it wasn't James, but _me_ that people were destroying. The demons were laughing at me. The ghosts followed me, taunted me. I felt responsible. I felt horrible.

And yet... I remembered.

He knew he liked men. He knew he was gay. He knew it would land him in hot water someday.

But he trusted me.

That night, he trusted me to keep him safe. That I would keep my mouth shut. He knew the sort of person I was because if he hadn't, he'd have walked away.

James saw something inside of me.

James knew.

It would take me years before I could admit it to anyone, save Bobby.

I just didn't expect it to be happy-go-lucky Castiel.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean."

"Don't."

"Dean..." Cas's hand found my leg. "You can't hold onto this forever."

Oh, yes I could. No one needed to know. Especially not Sam.

I didn't expect Cas to be so understanding. I didn't expect him to listen to the whole story, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth cinched. I thought he'd be angry at me, for sodomy or whatever. Instead, he just touched my thigh, right above the knee.

"You didn't do anything wrong. God gave his creation needs and desires."

"Didn't God also say, don't lie with another man?"

"But that was for population reasons."

We locked eyes, my friend and I. My bedroom was a little warm, and his hand was a little intimate, but it felt right. Very, very right.

"Is this why you've been so cold to the fangirls?"

And just like that, the mood died. "God, Cas. Probably?"

We both chuckled to ourselves. For the first time in years, I could breathe a little easier. James wasn't just a memory. Now he was real to someone else. As long as Cas lived, so would James. I needed that. I needed to know that the one boy I had been honest with would still be there some day, remembered.

I found my wallet and took out the tiny yearbook photo from behind my ID.

"James."

Cas looked at the photo hard. "Hm. He was beautiful. I can understand your attraction."

 _Yeah. Well, he's dead now, so..._ I thought, suddenly a little pissed.

There came a tap at my bedroom door. Sam stuck his unusually large forehead in. "Hey, sorry to barge in your girl talk, but we got a case."

XxxxxxxxX

"It seems like a poltergeist." Sam was saying, showing us his laptop. "That or a really strong ghost."

" **Demon haunts Griffin High School**. Well. That's a load of crazy."

"Get this. Apparently, football players have been attacked in the locker room by an invisible being. He throws the soap on the floor, he gets into wrestling matches, and he rips up homework while they're in the shower."

I glared at Sam. "That's just asshole teenagers banding together."

"See, that's what I thought." He clicked the mouse. "But It seems that the Football coach has seen this up close. He said something invisible has been attacking his students for awhile now, and he was too scared to call anyone."

"Well. Lucky for us, we are not 'anyone'."

A hop and a skip later, Sam and I found ourselves in the parking lot of Griffin High School. It had a weird gothic feel that rubbed me the wrong way. "This place sucks. And it's creepy."

"I'll give you that." Sam turned off the ignition. "I just hope you don't run into anyone you know."

What? I gave my brother crazy eyes. "Why would I know anyone here?"

"Dean..." He said, gesturing wildly. "I know you went to a lot of schools but this was one of the most prolific."

For a second his words all faded. Then I realized. "I went to this school?!"

"Yes, Dean, for a few _months_."

How did I not remember that?

We entered. The smell was the first thing to hit. I registered the scent as important. Really, really important. It reminded me of classes and wishing I could try out for the school play. But I couldn't place it.

"When the hell did I go to this school?"

"Uh..." Sam took dad's journal out of his coat pocket. "Dad was hunting a wendigo in 93'. I was eleven. That's right about the time... Yeah. So, 1993. I wonder if you were in the yearbook."

I waved off crazy. "We can find out later."

Finding the office was difficult, and smelled like puberty. It was positioned inside the men's locker room, with windows aimed at the showers. Not creepy at all. Plus, a video feed aimed at the lockers. All in all, I would not want to be naked inside that particular room. Ever.

"Can I help you?"

Both Sam and I whipped out our FBI badges. "Are you Coach Harvell?"

The man was heavy set and balding, with a poorly done comb-over and an auspicious 'Stache. He looked like Harry Potter's Uncle. He nodded very discretely. "We're agents Scullifer and Moldred."

Sam flashed me what-the-hell eyes before continuing for me. "We're here about the... Happenings."

'Stache's eyes widened. "The FBI is concerned?"

"We're part of a special division..."

"Division X." I cut in. "We deal with the odd stuff."

"It's important that we get your story straight..."

"...Because the truth is out there, as I always say."

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "Not the time!"

Psh. The bitch.

Around me were naked high school boys, who seemed a LOT smaller than they had back when. These guys were actually kind of puny. I could push one over with a finger. Or maybe I was just a lot bigger.

"Yeah, we've had something in here." 'Stache was explain to Sam. "It keeps messing with my team. Specifically my team. It hasn't touched any other sport." Running a hand through his barely-there-hair, he whispered, "I think it's out to get me."

"Have you recently pissed anyone off? Like, really badly?" Sam chose to ask. I sighed into my hands.

"Not recently."

My turn. "Have there been any digs around here?"

'Stache's eyes narrowed. "Digs?"

"Uh, the removal of dirt from the ground. Digging. Any happen around here lately?"

Suddenly, he jolted around looking for something. "I remember seeing in the school bulletin that they were trying to retrieve a time capsule from the early '90's. Sink hole took it down."

Early 90's. I made eyes at Sam, who understood immediately. "Would it have happened to be around 1993?"

"Sounds right to me. Why?"

But we weren't about to explain it to 'Stache. "Thank you for your time."

Just as we were almost out of there, someone tapped my back. It was a kid, probably 14 and a little chunky. "I got your X-files references." He said, smiling wide. I had nothing but appreciation in my heart for little chubs.

I ruffled his hair. "I'm glad someone did."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"How did it go?"

Cas was standing in our kitchen, his hair disheveled, wearing a while suit. It kind of brought me to a weird place.

"Fine. And what's with you raiding Elvis's closet?"

He rubbed a hand down the front, chuckling lightly. "I needed to wash my clothing. This appeared inside my room. I don't know the correlation between myself and the King, but I'm flattered."

Whatever.

"Are you cooking?" I asked, smelling something... Good. Something else smelled sweet, but that coulda just been air freshener.

"Ah, I hope you don't mind. It's beef stroganoff. In my time as a human, I found an intense love for food. I want to share it with you now, preferably sitting down."

Sam smiled. "Thanks Cas. Sit down dinner sounds great. Right Dean?"

Calling me out. Psh. I nodded enthusiastically. "You know me. I'll sit anywhere for a hot meal."

Sam actually set the table, while Cas finished dinner. I sat at the end of the table and drank beer, because I wasn't really much use for anything else. It was fine with me. I liked my beer. I liked sitting. It worked. Cas looked euphoric, however, to be cooking. Too excited. Way too excited. And he hasn't gotten a single stain on the blindingly white suit. It actually pissed me off, more than amazed.

"I also made pie, Dean."

I dropped my beer.

"You did _what_?"

His voice was chalky and confused. "I... I made a pie. Was I not supposed to?"

I could have kissed the little sonofabitch.

Actually, I wanted to.

Badly.

His bright blue eyes kept flashing at me like a neon sign for pedophiles. Cas was too-fucking-cute, and it was driving me absolutely bonkers. It made me mad. Drive-off-cliff mad. I was supposed to be in control. The adult. The feisty one. Instead, my sudden realization made me want to drop everything, including the case, and go watch Pretty Women in my bedroom.

Cas? Me? What the hell did I want? It was James all over again, except I actually had some history with Cas and he probably wouldn't be ostracized for sucking dick...

...Or would he? Angels confused the hell outta me.

"Huckleberries are in season, and I didn't want them to go to waste..." He mentioned, holding up the prize. "Please."

"After dinner." I promised in an unusually soft voice.

He brought out the beef stroganoff, which smelled like my personal heaven, and ladled us massive portions. We ate and talked, Cas only observing with his half-strength angel body. He was the butt of most of our jokes though, so it worked out in the end.

"The coach looked like _whom_?" Sam asked, one cheek full of food.

"Harry Potter's uncle. The big one. With the 'Stache."

"Uncle Vernon? He barely even looked close to... Wait... Hmmm... You're kind of right."

"Right?!"

"I'm sorry," Cas interjected, "whom?"

Sam slipped out his phone and found a picture of Uncle Vernon. Cas smiled. "It's like I'm right there with you."

"Actually, good question. Why didn't you come with us today? We could have used you."

Cas's face suddenly sucked in, like he had a biiiiiig secret and he didn't want us to tell his mom. "I just preferred to be alone today. To... Go over some angel business."

"My ass." Sam and I snarled in unison.

"I don't follow." He murmured, eyes wide.

I stared at my friend, who's face had fallen considerably. His big blue eyes focused entirely on the table top. I bit my lip so I wouldn't grab his hand.

"It's okay, Cas, if you have plans. Just... Don't lie to us. Okay?" Sam said, smiling sadly. "Dean is the stupid one, and even he can tell when someone is being sneaky."

"Hey!"

"Sorry dude."

My turn. "What Sam means is, I'm the smart one and he went to college for two years. If you don't want to tell us what's going on, what made you want to make pie and eat a family meal... You don't have to. But if you do..."

Cas lifted his head a centimeter and met my eyes.

His had sudden, harsh marks underneath.

"Cas... What's up with your eyes?"

They looked like they had been painted in kohl. I'd never seen Cas look more tired or afraid than he suddenly seemed. It was a crazy and ill-timed change. I flashed a look at Sam, who in turn mouthed "WHAT THE FUCK?" Back.

Cas wouldn't meet my eyes again. It pissed me off. Obviously no one had hit him, but they may as well have, the way he pulled his arms into his chest and stared at the table. It reminded me of fights at home, back when Dad was still kicking. And Cas was me.

"Don't worry about it, Dean. Enjoy the rest of your meal. I'm..." He stood up shakily. "I'm going to go to bed now."

He was halfway down the hall before Sam asked, "Since when does he sleep?"


	3. Chapter 3

I've never been the best at deciding when to step in.

It was always a step too early, or too late. A too-big-gesture or never enough. The sweet spot that everyone else seemed to inherit just never showed up in my plans. And it was okay with me.

Usually.

Until that moment.

I tapped on the concrete door, trying to muster up some spit or something. My mouth felt bone dry, despite knowing there was pie waiting for me. Like a ballsack on a cold day, my tongue shriveled up and wouldn't come out. I'd have to talk to Cas on my own.

"Cas..." I tried, wincing at how my voiced cracked. "Cas, this is stupid."

"If you've come to mock me, you're welcome to stay out there."

Mock? "I'm not mocking you, Cas. I don't even understand why you're mad."

"Why I'm... I'm not mad, Dean. I'm just tired."

Fuck. I twisted the door knob. "Don't give me that bullshit, Cas. You don't sleep."

For a moment, it was quiet. Then, in a soft voice he said, "I didn't."

"You what?"

"I didn't." The rumbling of his bass voice made me stop. Completely quiet, and sad, and uncomfortably real, I actually stopped to listen. "I didn't sleep. While an angel, I never slept. But now..."

"You're always tired, huh?"

I could hear his coat rustling as he (most likely) rubbed his eyes. "I feel delusional, Dean. I feel foggy, and far away. Without _my_ grace, It's like I'm stuck between human and Angel, with no real benefit on either end. I'm hungry... But food tastes disgusting. I thirst, but I can't drink. And sleep..."

I kind of understood. The feeling. I meant, on a human level obviously. It kinda made me think of the first few years on my own, just hunting by myself and occasionally getting a message from Dad. Those nights were horrible because I could never close my eyes and just sleep. I had to stay aroused, waiting for something to come and kill me. It's why hunters don't hunt alone. It's safer, and saner that way. But Cas was alone in his half-graced state and he wouldn't be able to get rid of it.

"Cas... Can I come in?"

I figured he'd send me away again, but after a moment I heard the tiny click. He let me in, sulking, with a soft motion. "What more is there to discuss?"

I looked at my friend, still in the blinding white suit. He could have burned hair off of a dog in the thing, it shined so much. Practically sparkled. The stark whiteness made his own features darken and the bags under his eyes to deepen even more.

"You're going through sleep deprivation, Cas. And guess what? It gets worse."

"How do you know?"

"Because." I moved to sit on the bed beside him. "Before you raised me from perdition or whatever, I had a life."

"A life of deprivation?"

"A hard life."

I found his eyes lingering on me. It obviously had to do with me talking, but I felt the stirrings in my heart. Attention made everything right. My mouth felt slack as I peered into my hands. "My life sucked. I drank all the time. Got in fights. Kissed girls, beat up anyone who dared to cross me. Sam was the only one who could control me. He kept me sane. He treasured me. And then one day... He left."

Cas made no comment so I continued. "He told me he was quitting and going to college. Like it was a big fat party and he was the nerd they invited for diversity. I hated him for it. How come he got to escape the life, while I had to fight and kill just to survive? I blamed sam for... God.. Years. I blamed him when the sun came up and when the impala needed gas. I blamed him for news stories. For a second of my life... I didn't want a brother. I just wanted someone to hate."

"What does this have to do with me?" He asked, pulling a pillow onto his lap. Even the pillow looked dingy next to the insane suit. "I'm not looking for someone to hate. I simply lost my grace and took another's. It would make sense that I wouldn't be my full self."

"But Cas... A human can straight-up _die_ from sleep deprivation. They go crazy, and then they fall into a coma."

"Don't sound so sad."

We locked eyes, mine exploring his blue irises. Our faces were only a few inches apart. If I had wanted to, I could have reached my face towards his with no real effort and kissed him solidly. I wanted to. His breath quickened just slightly, and his gaze never dropped. But something about his furrowed eyebrows made me think, _nah, not yet._

It was a good thing too, because the giant asshole in my life decided to knock on the door and spoil everything.

"What, Sam?"

He peeped in, obviously weirded out. I mean, we were alone. Again. In a closed room. His mouth was a little slack, but I could tell that as soon as Cas was out of earshot, he'd be giving me ever bit of gay humor in the Sammy brain. I would just have to prepare myself.

"Dean. Can I talk to you?"

His voice didn't match up with his eyes. I blinked hard, hoping that it was a trick of the light, but it didn't go away. I nodded quickly, gave Cas a platonic pat on the back and left with Sam.

Once out of the room, my brother pulled me close.

"Bobby is here."

I blinked again. Hard.

What.

What?

"What?"

"Bobby." He murmured. "As in, man who raised us."

I closed my eyes. "Sam. Bobby is dead."

"Bobby is in our living room."

What the actual hell. I pushed Sam aside, pissed- no, livid- that he would joke about my mentor. There was a line, and Sam crossed it. I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying not to run towards the living room. I didn't want to know.

But I had to.

At the far end of the library sat a barrel-chested man in a dirty baseball cap. He wore a puffy vest over a grease-smudged button down and looked like he had been fishing for a week. In front of him was a very large newspaper and he poured over it the way only a senior citizen could.

"Goddamn it. I leave earth for two years and you idjits screw everything up."

I couldn't fucking breathe.

My mentor, who was DEAD, sat at my table. Nothing changed. He couldn't even bother to put on a clean shirt.

Bobby.

Perfect, undead Bobby.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

I didn't mean to bellow, but I did. I practically raced to the man and attacked him with the most full-frontal-completely-unsexual-but-unrestrained bear hug that had ever been conceived. I smelled the gasoline and whiskey on his skin, which had to be the most nostalgic smell I had ever encountered, and felt a couple of man tears forming. He hugged me back, unrestrained. Just like I had regressed to childhood. He held me close and wouldn't let go for anything.

"Dean." He whispered into my ear. "It's been a long time."

It had. I took a step back, my hand still casually on his shoulder, trying to comprehend the situation a little.

Sam intervened. "Bobby, why are you here?"

"Yeah, same question." I demanded. "And why could I hug you?"

He groaned. "Of course you ladies ask the hard questions first. I'll explain it in sections. First one being:

I'm still dead. Second, I'm on a mission. Third, it's only for Dean, unless he wants to share it."

I made eye contact with my mentor. A mission only for me? Bobby's eyes were dark, but not unreadable. Something he had to tell me was going to fuck my life up. I just knew it.

"Well, you came sort-of-back-to-life for it, so it must be important. Do I need to leave so you girls can talk?" Sam asked, trying to hide his anger with humor. Bobby nodded slowly.

"Unfortunately, I'm sworn to secrecy on this one, Kid. But we'll talk later."

He waited until Sam reluctantly closed the door before stage whispering, "you're in a heap of shit, ding-dong."

"What?"

"A heap of shit. You. Cas. It's all over the Angel radio."

"What is?" I asked, my stomach suddenly sour.

"Cas has someone else's grace, you're housing him, and he's stopped listening to any of his brethren."

Whoo. Nothing drastic. I nodded empathetically. "Yes, thats true."

"Have you told him about James?"

Time fucking stopped.

I looked Bobby square in the face. Hard.

How dare he?

"What?"

"I asked, have you told him about James?"

My fury had begun to boil. "What does it matter?"

"Quite a bit. For instance, today he went to heaven and appeared before the archAngels."

So he had actually been doing angel-stuff while we were out. Huh.

"So?"

"He told them to all fuck themselves and that he was willing to accept the consequences of sodomy."

I fucking dropped everything.

"Are you serious?"

"Why would I lie?"

Bobby moved his hands under his chin to appear like a Disney princess. "So I ask you again, girlie. Did. You. Tell. Him. About. James."

Fuck. "Yeah, a little."

Bobby's darkened eyes told me he was _done_ with my bullshit. "Okay, Dean. Here's how it looks right now. The angel's took almost all of Cas's grace, and most of his life force. They can't take the whole thing without being right here, and the bunker is mostly warded. They are _coming after him_ to _kill him for blasphemy."_ He held up an angel blade. "Someone in heaven let me out to warn you. But I need to know... Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Are you and Cas..." He tapered off, making gross eyebrows. "You can do whatever the hell you want to, boy. I told you the first time around. But you need to be honest with him, and me, and for Goddsakes tell Sammy."

Out of the question. I ran a hand through my hair, my heart pounding loudly. "I'm not doing anything with Cas."

"But he knows about James?"

"Yeah. I told him. I needed to get it off my chest."

For the first time in a long time, Bobby looked me square in the eyes and held it. I missed the dark, unyielding chasms. My friend, my ally, and the most badass man that I ever had the pleasure of knowing. He put a hand on my shoulder. There was so much in his gaze that he wanted to say, but probably thought I'd get mad over. "When this is done, you better make an honest man out of that kid."

I laughed. "Funny, Bobby. But I don't see that happening anytime soon."

"Well, fate is a tricky bitch. Someone is going to do it."

He smiled at me, one last time, before calling Sam back in.

He only stayed an hour or two, before he had to get back. I sat and listened to them go at it, just like they always had. Sam showed him the school and explained about the poltergeist. They laughed and joked, drank a few beers and talked without cessation. For the first time in years, Sam looked whole.

But I felt sick.

I needed to blow off some steam. Get out of the bunker... Drive to some unknown. Pick up a woman. Drink a beer. Fight a monster.

I would forget Cas entirely for one night.


End file.
